


Experiment

by AkaUsa



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Blood and Injury, F/F, Horror, Medical Experimentation, Rough Sex, Vivisection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24709504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkaUsa/pseuds/AkaUsa
Summary: To kill or not to kill. Medusa has some work to do.
Relationships: Maka Albarn/Medusa Gorgon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15
Collections: The First Annual Femslash Kink Exchange 2020





	Experiment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tender_anaphylaxis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tender_anaphylaxis/gifts).



If asked, Medusa wouldn't have said she was particularly fond of killing. Great satisfaction could certainly be found in defeating a long-lasting enemy and there were a few people –her sisters, mostly– for which she had entertained pleasant thoughts of murder. But she did not care one way or another for the run-of-the-mill mobs of humans, witches, meisters and weapons that had the misfortune of dying from standing a little too close between her and her goals. Killing them was just so often the simplest way to get rid of the trash.

However, there were those for which death was a disappointing matter; the interesting people, the ones with potential, the useful lot. When she could, she would rather find other ways to deal with them. But Medusa also wasn't one to extand any generosity to those who became too much of a bother or a threat, she knew when to shut them down. Even so, if she had to kill one such person, she did her best to get out of them as much as she could squeeze and take.

* * *

The marker pen slid on the naked skin slowly as Medusa carefully drew lines across Maka's stomach. Breath steady, the girl laid unconscious on the operating table, the induced anesthesia preventing her from awakening. In such a deep sleep, even the well developped sixth sense of her soul wavelength could not feel any danger. Nor would she be met by any pleasant dreams.

Medusa had observed her cells through a microscope a few minutes earlier and more traces of black blood had shown up than what she had expected. Further inspection was needed to see to which extent the contamination was evolving. Shibusen had no idea about her connections to the underground doctor who had lent her this practice room and the only other person around was Eruka, taking watch far away enough that she wouldn't risk bothering her. So Medusa had all the time in the world to do her business.

With that in mind, she calmly ran her scalpel along the lines she had drawn, watching the red flesh be slowly revealed as she opened her up. One would have usually needed help from others to safely conduct such a medical process but Medusa found magic to be as useful and much quieter than any assistant.

She started by studying the blood vessels, trying to detect any visible signs of her creation in it. Her first tests with the black blood, almost one century ago, had shown strong signs of instability with its coagulating capacity and succeeding in fixing that had been quite a lengthy problem. There was the possibility, with the secondhand corruption through which Maka had been infected, that the perfected blood cells may have degraded, leading to such issues as the formation of small clots. Some instinctive rejection from her body could also have caused unexpected reactions, as had been the case for Crona in the early years.

Medusa focused her observation around the respiratory system for a start, a likely place for tricky problems to arise. The beating of Maka's heart seemed to echo the pulsing of her soul, safely tucked inside her ribcage with her lungs. Its soft glow added a blueish tint to the bones and flesh, the red organs glistening beautifully next to it. Slipping her hand inside and gently grasping the small soul to tear it out would have been an easy and clean matter, causing death while barely spilling any blood. Her fingers, in the protective medical gloves, itched with that thought. But she only let out a soft sigh and carried on her studious examination.

While all her senses followed the flow and pumping of the veins, Medusa's own heart seemed to synchronise with it, she could hear it vibrating in her ears. And though her hands easily maintained their steadiness in moving each tool necessary for her examination, something twisted in the back of her stomach at the same time as one of her legs grew twitchy.

Having seen enough up there for now, she moved down towards the abdomen, opening-up the path with the same assiduity as before, despite the upholding of her composure appearing quite differently by now. She felt the corner of her mouth stretching in a smile that she couldn't contain and little chills ran down her backbone. The inside warmth of the body reached her hands through the latex protection, emboldening them despite her best attempts to keep things under complete control, tempting them to reach deeper, to palpate and feel the flesh, to smell and taste the blood. She wanted nothing to interfere with the experiment but a wet feeling of arousal kept rising and Medusa had to stomp her foot to try and get it out of her mind.

That could become such a bother, when the excitement grew too much and clouded her thoughts and judgement in the most important parts of an operation. Of course, the adrenaline rush made for a huge part of why she desecrated bodies as she did, there would have been no point if the research wasn't _interesting_. Having too much fun with it only caused issues though, you needed strictness and rigor for good results.

It took her a few seconds to drown the insidious ache and focus on her priorities, before she started roaming through the body again, forceps in hand, searching for any signs of black blood. It had probably remained diluted enough in Maka's veins however, since she didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Her eyes went back up, to the beating heart and shining soul as she wondered what she ought to decide next. The choices were numerous but if she wanted to watch the evolution of the black blood on someone like Maka, there was a pretty simple answer to that. Medusa turned to her tools tray, took one of the sanitized syringe she had prepared and filled it with a special dose of black blood.

Choosing a suitable vein was easy enough, the dark liquid flew through the canal and straight to the heart. Once done, she checked one last time through the various organs for good measure, their warm colors shining vividly under the ceiling lights as she looked for what this body could have left to offer. Then, all that was left was to sew her up. A meticulous, drawn out job that she didn't necessarily enjoy, but one she worked through diligently and patiently.

The last stitch made, she cleaned and put her tools aside, before slouching against her chair with a small, contented sigh. Even without any windows in the room to give her an idea of the time, she could tell that dawn would be coming in a few hours. She may as well have taken a short rest, while waiting for the results of her work.

* * *

Maka's head felt heavy as her consciousness was slowly pulled out of the hazy darkness of dreamless sleep. An uncomfortable feeling was rising inside her, preventing her from opening her eyes, as if keeping them close could have made the sense of danger pass over her and leave. She sensed it in the prickling of the cold air against her skin, from shoulders to stomach, and in the rough contact of some kind of plastic sheet covering her legs. Hesitantly, she slowly moved her fingers against the rubbery material of the uncomfortable surface her body was laying on top of.

It didn't feel like a bed, there was no mattress. Some kind of support under her sore back and neck appeared to be slightly tilted. Electric light shone above her, blinding her even through her closed eyelids. Maka turned her head on the side before finally opening them. Her heart seemed to miss a beat at the sight in front of her and she wished she could have shut her eyes again, if only to make it disappear for even a second. But fear made them stay wide open.

Medusa simply looked at her, sitting casually in her chair with one leg over the other, waiting for her next move. She was wearing some kind of surgical gown over her witch clothes, and translucent gloves stained with red.

As the mist of sleep drowning her mind dissipated and she grew more aware of her surroundings, Maka realized she was laying almost entirely naked in front of her. She knew without looking that her nipples were slightly hard from the cold and that only a thin sheet covered her, from the genitals down. Embarrassment burnt her cheeks as she tried not to cry. She was misty-eyed already, mostly because of the strong lights.

When she tried to pull the cloth over her, not even daring to break eye-contact with Medusa, her gestures were too awkward and sluggish. The fabric slid askew under her fingers. Letting her hands fall on her side, she didn't attempt to rectify the shot, afraid of only worsening the situation. A weight had pulled in her stomach as she had moved, one she couldn't be sure was only due to anxiety.

Tearing her eyes away from Medusa was difficult. Despite how composed and still she appeared, it felt to Maka that she could be attacked as soon as she looked the other way. Or maybe the scariest thing was what she thought she would see, once she properly looked at her exposed body. When she finally did so, the sight of her patched-up chest and stomach made her shiver with revulsion. Something rough seemed stuck in her throat, that she couldn't swallow or spit out. Eyes glued on the stitched skin, she heard her heartbeat speed up, bumping in her ribcage so hard it hurt, until she finally had to avert her gaze.

As she spoke, after fumbling on the words a little, her voice turned out coarse, each syllable irritating the inside of her throat as they left it.

"What have you done?"

Medusa leaned on and poked at her stomach with the tip of her fingers before moving them up her body almost playfully, grazing the skin with the gloves covered red by her dried blood. She smiled as she saw goose bumps forming on Maka's arms and chest in reaction.

"What did I do? Well, there are many things I could have done if I wanted. I could have sewed wings on your back to bind to your soul, filled your guts with snakes or even switched a few bones with glass, for example."

Awkwardly, Maka tried to slap her hand away but, not having enough strength back yet, she was only able to push it to the side. Medusa easily grabbed her wrist, in order to check her pulse. Emergence from general anesthesia could already increase or perturbate a patient's heart rate, and with the added panic she currently felt from Medusa's presence, the black blood was surely spreading quickly. Troubling her even more may have in all likelihood provoked an interesting reaction.

Maka was fighting against the nauseating feeling in her stomach and the fog in her brain, to push herself up with her elbow. After managing to get in a sitting position with the support of her arm, she pulled on to try and get her wrist free, which only resulted in Medusa tightening her grip on it, fingers squeezing harshly against the bones.

"You know there's no one coming, what are you hoping to do? Are you just going to give up?" wondered Medusa aloud to rile her up.

Despair and horror twisted Maka's face as she looked around for some futile mean of escape she knew would be impossible to find. But despite the fear shaking her body and gnawing at her mind, Medusa could still see the flames of anger deep within her eyes, that only asked to be kindled.

"If you think I'll let you live long enough to have a chance to see Crona, you're sorely mistaken."

She had a few theories on how Maka would react. A kick was the first possibility, since she often hit with her legs in a fight, but a punch may have felt more personal and likely from her, in that moment. If she had looked well enough, she should have seen the scalpels Medusa had stored on the side and would eventually attempt to pick one as a weapon.

However, she hadn't really expected for Maka to simply jump at her, teeth bared, aiming for her neck. Medusa budged to avoid a hit to her jugular but couldn't avoir being bitten. Maka's teeth sunk hard enough in her skin for her to feel them against the bones of her shoulder blade. The sharp pain and the weight of her naked body, as it awkwardly fell over Medusa and pushed her against the chair's back, nearly cut her breath for a second.

Maka's bite had dug enough in the skin to draw blood but Medusa was more curious to see what she would do next, than bothered by the injury. She didn't feel the need to push her off either, despite their entangled limbs, until Maka started moving. As she licked the wound and sucked on the blood, she bumped her stomach and hips against Medusa. At first it was so slightly it may have been accidental but soon enough, the humping became much more direct and shameless. The rubbing of skin against clothes reawakening some of the arousal Medusa had felt earlier.

With a good push of her snake tail, Medusa threw her off, rose up and drove her against the nearest wall, hands grabbing her wrists above her head to prevent her from attempting any more funny business. Maka shouted as her back hit the cool, smooth wall and pain spread through her spine, before starting anew as something burst near her stomach.

"Look what you did, flailing around like that, you ripped a stitch", Medusa reprimanded her even though she was the one who had pushed her into giving in to the anger.

The black tail of her outfit slithered again, poking at the skin near the opened stitch. A drop of dark blood left a small trail as it trickled down to the navel. It dried on the spot though and Medusa made an appreciative noise.

Shaking, Maka started trashing around in mad hope of freeing herself. Her wrists were too solidly held, the dried blood on the gloves crumbling against her skin, so she opted for kicking Medusa's legs with her bare feet. She still had the taste of her skin and blood in her mouth but didn't want to think about how good it had felt or how much she wanted to bite her again, sitting with her body under her. Maka didn't try to reflect on the desperate state of her situation either. How cornered she was, how weak and on display her naked body felt, and especially not the matter of her heart beating so fast it seemed ready to explode nor how wet she had gotten herself by touching Medusa.

"Get your hands off! Let me go!"

Since she had been bitten, Medusa had started wondering if Maka had gone completly feral. However, from the way she just spoke, it wasn't quite the case yet. The hits on her legs barely did anything but were pretty annoying, so she shoved her knee between Maka's thighs and pushed. With a little squeak, her whole face turning red, Maka was lifted a few inches above the ground. More than enough to have her legs dangling wildly in the air, toes curling in fright then stretching to try reaching for the floor.

"Don't get so embarrassed, I had my hands deep inside you not too long ago."

Maka cursed. Medusa's thigh had brushed against her clit when she had rammed it between her legs and it was now pressed under her labia. There was no way she hadn't noticed the wetness that wouldn't stop from leaking on her pants. How the hell she had gotten so aroused, Maka wasn't able to figure, but whatever the answer may be, the culprit obviously was none other than Medusa. And with a leg tucked between hers, kicking at the witch to assuage her anger proved to be incredibly difficult. Dangerous too, in the ways it made her nerves react.

Pulling her upper body forward with her remaining strength and twisting her head, jaw open, Maka tried to bite her again instead, aiming for the face and neck. That was the only thing she was able to, or could think of doing. But despite how much she struggled, Medusa stayed just out of reach and her teeth only closed on empty air. With each attempt, Maka's arms grew sore from being held up and she couldn't stop herself from tightening her grip on Medusa's thigh, further increasing the friction causing her arousal.

Although Medusa's position may not have been comfortable, requiring her to keep one foot up in the air and her knee against the wall, the black cloth tail that she had planted in the ground helped her remain stable. It would be long after Maka had exhausted herself out that she would eventually get tired. Maka could only bite her own lips, in bitter rage, while Medusa stared at her with contempt.

She hadn't quite expected the events to take this turn and was rather disappointed. The black blood didn't appear to have had much of an impressive result, outside of the droplets from the ripped stitch. Perhaps, if she hurt Maka again, reopening her wounds, she could see more of that. The sexual craving wasn't an effect she had ever previously observed within the black blood but she didn't really see the usefulness in that. Still, she always had interest in compiling any new kind of input about her creation and there wasn't any harm in messing with Maka.

Pushing her one more time with her thigh to unsettle her, Medusa then released one of her arm, which she was getting bored of having to hold anyway. She had better things to do with her own hand and if Maka wanted to attempt anything with this crumb of freedom, she was welcome to try.

With her teeth, Medusa removed the now useless glove and dropped it on the floor before running her hand up and down Maka's stomach. Her fingers brushed against the beginning of her pubic hair then came back to the freshly sewn scars, still undecided on whether she prefered to hurt or give pleasure. Maka had barely managed to restrain herself from moaning at the leg's sudden thrust against her vulva but she couldn't prevent a gasp when the warmth of Medusa's hand wrapped around the cold, naked skin of her hips.

Fingertips toyed with the threads keeping her alive and Maka's breath caught in her throat as she contracted her stomach to avoid the sharp nails from grazing her wounds. She extended her free arm and dug her own fingers in Medusa's shoulder, but she didn't try to push her away. Maka knew that such an attempt would only be deflected immediately and she needed to find something better. Her hand squeezed harder before she slid it over the bite mark, towards Medusa's neck.

The hand on her stomach scratched the skin while it went down again. Maka felt her hips react, leaning forward, with her back arching as the fingers drew closer to her labia, skimming past the lips and sending static electricity to her clit.

She wished she could have retaliated and clawed her way through Medusa as easily as that. To have opened her flesh too and let all of the dirtiness inside the witch drop on the floor in a pool of red. By that point, the blood in her head was pumping so bad she felt feverish and wasn't sure she was thinking clearly at all anymore. Maka grabbed strands of hair, at the same time as her fingers reached for the back of the neck. She pulled, and Medusa let her do it.

But as soon as they were close enough and Maka opened her mouth, Medusa kissed her, slid her tongue inside her jaw so forcefully that Maka couldn't even hope of biting it. A short, strangled noise escaped her and she pulled harder on the hair, rubbed her legs faster against the thigh she was riding. Medusa's tongue had completly put her own under her control, making her follow her pace. Maka knew she should have been ashamed, but now that coming seemed the only thing she could still have, she hung on to it, in spite of the pain.

Seeing her so close to climax, Medusa stopped teasing her wounded pride and pressed her fingers against her clit, offering her a quick release. Maka's whole body quivered, then tensed before leaning on her. Medusa interrupted the kiss and brought her leg back to the ground, bringing Maka's limp body against her. Then, with a sudden jerk, teeth thrust into her neck as Maka bit.

She teared away part of the skin and the taste of salty blood sent chills down her spine. The red liquid felt warm, just like the wetness trickling between her thighs. New waves of arousal echoed, stronger than before, as if tearing Medusa's flesh had given more of an orgasm than being touched by her. With her body slowly growing numb to every feeling that weren't pleasure, she imagined herself sinking inside a nice and hot bath of this vivid blood.

Maka closed her eyes when Medusa pushed her down and let herself fall to the ground, nothing seemingly mattering anymore.

* * *

Medusa contemplated the naked body on the floor, unconscious again. Maka was sleeping peacefully in the most absurd situation conceivable. Wiping the blood on her neck with a clean handkerchief, she considered the next course of action she needed to take. The morning had come already and Eruka would contact her soon. Killing Maka was the most obvious choice to make.

A tickling and wet sensation coming from her vulva nagged at her and she tried to push it back at the edge of her thoughts. She had no time for dealing with any unvoluntary physical reaction that resulted from her little test. The experiment couldn't have been called conclusive, the problem was in deciding whether there remained any merit in continuing it.

There was not, her brain argued at first, since nothing interesting had been discovered. Unless the lack of meaningful data was exactly the reason why she needed to study things further and couldn't stop so quickly. Frustration throbbed again, down her stomach and lower. Her snake tail rose to strike, killing the disruptive element appeared to be the best way to get rid of the base, unwanted needs. On the other hand, she knew herself perfectly capable of keeping her wants under impeccable control when necessary, so she didn't need to resort to taking the easy way out in destroying any temptation.

She was back to having no answer. Medusa groaned. Frankly, the matter of choosing when to kill someone could be such an annoyance at times.


End file.
